


Tongue tied

by Anonymous



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Tongues, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21630295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The abnormal physical effects that the Constant inflicts upon non natives is a Science in of itself.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 135
Collections: Anonymous





	Tongue tied

Wilson hadn't noticed it, at first. The way Maxwell talked, how he bared his teeth in snarls or scowls, or adopted sneering grins and almost self satisfied smirks; there wasn't a lot of looking at each others face very often.

Coupled with being taller than Wilson, he felt it understandable that he hadn't noticed at first.

And then, one morning, as he prepared to test his newest prototype invention, he had the not too common audience of the other man. 

Wilson had not actually invited him, but at the moment he was more focused on the wooden tool in his hands.

There was a bit of that sheeps steel like wool on one end, thoroughly sanitized with spider glands and straightened out, a softer down from the miserable creatures belly and not that thick, skin scraping stuff that coated the rest of it. It wasn't quite what he wanted to use, but it did feel a bit odd to try and use the bristles from the boars around here; even with spider gland sanitizing Wilson did not particularly find the idea of putting that into his mouth.

As such, it was the Ewecus's wool that would take its place, though in retrospect it probably wasn't any better of an idea.

Still, he had to at least try. Toothbrushes were important tools, after all.

And Wickerbottom had requested that he make some, for the children at the very least. Webber may be part spider and may loose teeth at random times, but Wendy was still young. Floss was easier to get a hold of, but making a proper toothbrush took some time.

Woodie had apparently tried his hand at it, but while pine needles worked for _his_ teeth it sure didn't work for anyone else's.

As Wilson got about getting ready to start testing, the nearby pond devoid of frogs and pot of boiled water at the ready, some silk fabrics and even a makeshift paste that Wickerbottom had offered up, some sort of flowery scented, soapy salty stuff that Wilson wasn't that fond of, his companion stood nearby with folded arms and looking remarkably bored.

"Do I dare even ask what you are doing with that?"

"It's a toothbrush, Maxwell." Wilson didn't pay the older man any mind, adjusting his supplies and laying them out, then picking up the device in question and examining it one last time. "If you don't want to hang around, you're welcome to leave. I didn't invite you anyway."

"You didn't invite anyone, pal."

"Exactly."

There was an answering huff at that, irritable, but Wilson brushed his dull claws over the bristles and tried to hope that they were soft enough to not cut his gums open. It had taken him some time filing and trimming that wool down!

Footsteps warned him of the other man's presence, though a glance up didn't show any hinted curiosity, only the usual curdled scowl that Maxwell had. Wilson frown back up at him, just about to make up his mind and politely tell him to piss off, before suddenly those gloved hands had swooped right down and snatched the toothbrush away from him.

"Hey, what the hell!?"

"Language, Higgsbury." Maxwell chided him snidely, waving the toothbrush around carelessly as Wilson tried to, unsuccessfully, snatch it back from him. 

"I don't give a damn, now give that back!"

Damn the tall bastard, and damn Wilsons shorter height as he tried to reach for his prototype and got decisively mocked all the way! It took a few minutes, Wilson scowling more and more as he was practically teased in whatever this twisted game of Maxwell's this was, before he decided, fuck it, and kneed the man in the groin.

That caused a more satisfactory reaction, a wheezed groan of pain as Maxwell stumbled back and Wilson snatched up the toothbrush before it could fall into the dirt and mud. He didn't want to have to sanitize the damn thing again, and neither did he want dirt in his mouth.

"That was...uncalled for..." 

Wilson ignored the older man as he turned away, not caring in the least for whatever pains he just gave him. Served him right and all, but it wouldn't debilitate him anyway; Wilson already knew Maxwell would recover quick enough as it was. 

His assumption was correct, as always, and now Maxwell had a glower on his face but all he did was hover, if with a few more feet between them now. As Wilson turned the brush about, frowning at a few of the bristles having gotten bent and carefully focusing on fixing them straight again, the other man huffed out a more growled sound, arms crossed over his chest and looking rather displeased with the turn of events.

"I don't quite see why you even need one of those things anyhow."

Wilson rolled his eyes, back still turned as he stooped down and set the toothbrush with the other tools, now set up exactly as he needed of them all. All he needed to do was actually get to the experiment.

If Maxwell didn't try anything else to waste his time.

"I am pretty sure having a dental hygienic routine would benefit everyone, Maxwell." He turned around, hands on his hips as he looked up at the other man and his scowling face, not at all marred by their bout earlier. "Even you."

The look he got from that was actually a bit confusing; Maxwell looked completely disbelieving, almost darkly amused even, and then Wilson had to lean back because the other man had taken those few steps to lean over in his face, a shine rising in his pitch blacks eyes as if he was about to say something hilarious.

"Oh, I'm sure you're little brush would work wonders with me, _Higgsbury_. I suppose it would, in fact, benefit me _greatly_." There was a dangerous little note in his voice, a sharp toothed grin, and then Maxwell cracked open his jaws and Wilson suddenly saw what, exactly, he was even talking about.

There were way too many jagged teeth in there to be possible.

For a moment he was stunned - he's always noticed the sharp teeth, fangs and canines in the other man's smiles, and sometimes almost _too_ many of them - but Wilson has never actually gotten to see that all up close.

Maxwell, seemingly satisfied at the lack of response and misinterpreting the surprise with horrified shock, closed up his shark toothed mess of a jaw and straightened back up, hands going to his suit to dust away imaginary dirt particles and looking snidely pleased.

"That little brush is no use to me, I'm afraid. And, really, might I suggest you have a good long look into the pond in the near future?" The grin had grown bigger somehow, and now Wilson could see it, the way the man's lips were a bit off center, how a few fangs poked out from both bottom and top, how his smirks were just a bit more crooked than he had originally thought. "You're useless little prototype won't do a thing for you or I, pal."

"It's mostly for the kids…" Wilson spoke offhandedly, thoughts turned inward and not quite paying any attention to what the other man was saying, but then something snagged his attention. "Wait, what do you mean look in a pond?"

Maxwell snorted, arms crossed and back to looking a hint bit defensive, but Wilson spun around and walked to the ponds edge, dropping to his knees and leaning over to look into the water. He usually took what Maxwell said with a grain of salt, but the sudden continual evidence that the man lacked even more humanity than usual set him on edge. 

Having physical claws, very much not human like, has made Wilson rather cautious about that sort of thing.

But, apparently not cautious enough. Staring down into the ponds still waters, murky at the bottom but clear and reflective enough at the top for him, Wilson hesitantly opened up his mouth to have a look.

Scrawling fangs stared back at him, not nearly as rough or out of order as Maxwells but most definitely not just a few misplaced canines.

Wilson was pretty sure those hadn't been there from the beginning.

As he stared blankly at his slow wavering reflection, toothy and sharp, reminiscent to hounds but not nearly so large, there was movement by his side and his reflection was joined by Maxwell's squatting form. The water mirrored a snarky grin, and then a gloved hand patted him on the shoulder in almost a companionably comforting air besides for the fact that the man was smirking at him in self satisfying amusement.

"Ah, don't worry too much about dental hygiene, pal. They just fall out when their done, and a new one'll take its place in no time."

And then, for a second time this day, Maxwell stunned Wilson once again; his reflection grinned wide, and out slithered a tongue that was most certainly not human, amused and almost teasingly flicking the air.

That snapped Wilson out of his internal mental breakdown of losing his humanity ever so slightly more, and he twisted around to stare wide eyed at the former Nightmare King, who had taken his hand away and leaned back at the sudden movement.

And his surprisingly serpent like tongue.

Maxwell seemed to realize his fun wasn't being as well received as he had originally planned, and back slithered that tongue between too many shark toothed teeth, jagged and in the chaotic mess that was his jaw. He gave Wilson a cautious look, eyebrow raised, but Wilson was not looking at him in any sort of aggressive manner.

In fact, the look he was getting was one that Maxwell has seen a few times before, but usually not with himself being the focus; usually it was some new creature, or when the scientist handled a Beardling, or examined the Lure Plants eye roots. It was not the type of look a more sentient being wanted to be given.

"Now pal, that wasn't an invitation-"

Before he could even get the rest of the sentence out those dull claws had already grabbed for his face, not even deterred when he jerked back and fell on his ass in the dirt and mud. Whatever offended anger he got from that realization was banished the moment Wilson had wrenched his jaws open, eyeing his teeth critically and in a very not so comforting way.

"Wha the hec-"

"Do you mean to tell me your mouth physiology is as changed as it is and I never noticed!?" Wilson kept a firm grip to the other man's jaw, already knowing he was stronger than him, knowing that there wasn't much besides shadow manipulation that could remove him from examining Maxwell more thoroughly, and he tilted his head, let the sunlight glitter off of sharp shark teeth, jagged hound canines and some other variants, long and thin then short and just as sharp. And, inside all that, coiled behind a few rows of crooked teeth, just the visage of jaw deformity piqueing his curiosity, Wilson looked upon the tongue that Maxwell has been using for who knows how long now.

The older man gargled out an answer of sorts, an odd almost hissy noise, his gloved hands wrapped tight to Wilsons wrists but not quite attempting to push him off just yet. 

Still, it was enough for Wilson to remember that, while he was a scientist, he was a _gentleman_ scientist. So he let the man go, falling back on his knees as he stared at the man with more curiosity than he usually feels for Maxwell.

Maxwell himself took a moment to rub his jaw, a glowering glare as he opened and closed his mouth as if to stretch and make sure all was right with it. 

"Did you always have the tongue, or was that more recent?"

Maxwell didn't answer him for a moment, stubbornly not looking at him and instead looking rather offended, but Wilson was too patient for these sorts of answers and finally the old man answered him.

"I don't believe that is any of your business, Higgsbury." 

Whatever more playful tone that had been there previously was very much gone by now, and Wilson's face slipped into a frown, brow knitting up as he realized he may have overstepped himself. While whatever contact Maxwell made with him was usually unasked for, Wilson tried to not touch anyone who hasn't given him explicit permission to do so, not unless he was reacting in retaliation, as in earlier.

But grabbing at the older man without warning might have been a bit much.

"Uh, sorry." Now he actually felt kind of bad about that, and Maxwell shot him a hard, unreadable expression, with perhaps a hint of confusion in it. Wilson waved his hands in a vague gesture, sheepish now for his more scientifically inclined impulses. "For doing that to you so suddenly. I should have asked first, just got a bit..excited."

For a moment the older man looked like he was going to hold the grudge, but then his shoulders relaxed from being so tensed up and, while the smirk wasn't quite friendly in any way, at least now it felt as if Maxwell was going to be receptive.

"...To answer your question, there was a time where I did not have it." Maxwells face knit up a moment in thought, and while the both of them were now sitting in the dirt and mud beside the pond neither thought about or acknowledged this completely as of yet. "Unfortunately, I do not remember when that was. Possibly before the Throne."

The man shrugged, his answer not seeming to distress him, like when the topic of Wilson's claws came up and his lack of memory made him anxious, and after a moment of considering this Wilson came to the next step of the scientific way of doing things.

Or, more like the scientific way of how _he_ did things, but no one had to know that.

"Maxwell." This time, Wilson decided, he needed to be the better man, or scientist in this case, and act the gentleman. Asking for permission was one of those things. 

When Maxwell looked at him, that masking scowl but definitely seeming to be curious, Wilson drew in a breath and got right to it.

"May I examine your tongue? It's not at all human like in nature and looks possibly prehensile, but I hadn't gotten a good look and it would give me more information if I got an in person view as to…" 

The look the other man was giving him said enough about Wilsons rambling, and he clicked his claws together in his lap, trailing off, and he was burning with curiosity now, more than with just twisted jawbones and too many teeth, now an actual organ changed from being in the Constant, possibly due to the Throne itself or perhaps the amount of time spent here? Either way, Wilsons mind ticked along and Maxwell didn't look very open to the idea, thought Wilson was itching to have a look-

"You know what? Fine, pal." The grin he was given was full of teeth once more, now able to identify the finer details of the older man's crooked jawbone, but his answer caught Wilsons excitement instantly and he scooted forward, wasting no time.

After a moment of staring at the man in anticipation, the thought of more knowledge, of knowing more spurring him on, finally Maxwell cracked open his mouth and unfurled his tongue.

It was longer than Wilson had originally thought. A dark color, purple almost, and at the very tips two sharp pieces forked out. An actual serpent tongue, Wilson realized, and the thought almost made him laugh.

But his focus was trained on this now, not laughing, and with a bit more restraint this time Wilson raised up his hands, careful with his dull claws, and took up the slithery snake tongue before him.

It was very thin, now that he had it in his hands, tapering to those twin points and, as his eyes trailed back a moment, thickening up the closer to Maxwells teeth and jaw it led. His claws were not the most sensitive to touch, but there was a certain level of dampness, slimy and smooth, light reflecting off its shiny surface as he handled the man's tongue carefully. There wasn't much reciprocation in movement, besides a faint flickering at the tips that tickled his palms and the quiet warmed breath against his knuckles, but Wilson has already seen that Maxwell has moved it about. 

Carefully, and slow just incase the other man wants him to stop, Wilson turned his hands, loosely grasping the strange tongue and letting it slide across his palms, in between his claws and flicking across his dulled talon tips. 

Really, as he watched it slide smooth and elegant about his hands, letting his talons fiddle and practically play with the snake like thing, it looked very much to Wilson like a hound's tongue. Long, thin, purple and with forked ends, and coupled with all those teeth as well. 

For a bit longer he examined the serpent tongue, now watching it grow more active, flicking and then sliding almost curiously about, forked tips grazing his clammy darkened skin, definitely prehensile and with muscle to it too, before Wilson realized those puffs of warmed breath were growing a bit more unsteady, a low, uneven exhale interrupting his thoughts.

It was a bit more of a shock than any other today, actually, to look up and see Maxwell watching him with his pitch black eyes half closed, pale face with a bit more color blushing it and toothy mouth hanging loose, breathing shallow and warm, his long serpent tongue wound and curled about Wilson's hands in a way that wasn't very scientific or experimental. He got caught staring, frozen in an odd silence of sorts, knowing he was being watched and watching the other man in turn.

And then the tip of that long, smooth forked tongue flicked against his knuckles and the spell was broken.

With a noisy exhale, Wilson carefully pulled his hands away, and Maxwell slipped his tongue back up into his mouth and looked away, one hand half heartedly covering his mouth, slivers of drool down his chin that Wilson only glanced at before looking away, heat rising in his face.

His heart thudded loud in his chest, the realization and feeling of sticky saliva over his hands, between his claws making matters more awkward, and for a moment the both of them sat in complete silence, not looking at each other.

Wilson couldn't help chancing a glance, and Maxwell certainly looked a bit less pale than usual, and was still breathing a bit heavily too. For a moment his thoughts wandered, to the feeling of that smooth tongue in his hands, the lowest of sounds exhaling warmed air against his hands, and then Wilson banished it away with a bit more force than was necessary.

The moment he started to move, to rise was the go ahead for Maxwell as well, the both of them standing all too close now that Wilson realized it, staring up at the man with a bit more composure.

"I, uh, thank you." For a moment he floundered for words, before Wilsons more scientifically inclined mind grasped at straws. "For science and all, obviously."

He felt more flushed now, damn it!

"...Obviously." Maxwells voice, on the other hand, did not seem to reflect his appearances state, stiff and back to its more drolling nature, and then he raised a hand and made a polite coughing noise in his fist, eyes darting away before once more meeting Wilsons, dark and shiny in the light. "Glad to have given you the opportunity, pal."

"Y-yeah…" Wilson made a face, not one he usually made and more waveringly neutral in the most hesitant and nervous of ways, more of that uncontrollable blush rising in him, and by whatever powers that be he had not expected his day to go this way.

It was almost evening and he hasn't even tested the toothbrush yet! He didn't even know if he rightfully could either, what with this new knowledge of himself, and obviously Maxwells rather unique features he just never knew about, how could he have missed seeing that _tongue-_

And what was he thinking again!? 

With a quick internal shake of himself, Wilson turned around, to look back over his supplies, the prototype his now known sharky mouth may not be able to use correctly, and tried to distract himself from what had just happened.

When he next looked back up, Wilson found himself having been left alone.

***

_Thin, slimy and long and thin, the hint of drool and the hissing exhale of heat between thick lips and dark, dark eyes, pitch black. The fangs stood out as well, jagged and chaotic and jumbled thick, but that tongue slithered out almost smoothly, elegantly, and slipped over warm skin, sweat and dirt and salt, toothy mouth right behind to give a nipping, bruising kiss._

_Pressed right to his shoulder, slipping down and draping over the hollows of his skin and bones, teasing his sensitive flesh as kiss after kiss went by, those shadow darkened hands touching and petting and kneading the flesh of his sides, his arms, firm, soft touch. Those fingers dipped lower, as that tongue swirled against his throat, a warm, slimy feeling as sharp nips peppered his neck, and with a sudden huff and tense shock those hands guided themselves down right to the part of him that was very much hard and awake._

_It didn't take him too much complexities to get excited, but the feeling of that slimy thin forked tongue, sweeping over him and lavishing his skin with saliva and light, barely there purrs of satisfaction, it was rather invigorating._

_He jolted when one hand didn't even beat around the bush, dropping low to grasp his erection at the base, a sweaty, firm hold before starting to stroke him in steady, heated movements. The gasp came out more like an almost laugh, almost chuckle of air exhaling as that tongue brushed up to his cheek, seeming to not mind his bristly aftershave, and with that he let his eyes close, exhaling as a pressure built, a deep set feeling blooming below his gut with an ever stronger burn. Each stroke made him heave a breath, in, out, thighs tensing a bit as that warm hand went about its business, other free hand teasing touch to his ribs and tongue lavishing his neck with licking swirly kisses, hot breath and even hotter touch._

_Pumping his cock, shivering at the strong build up and faint twitches in his muscles, as if to imitate thrust into that wonderful fist, he had to open his mouth, little panting gasps escaping him as the pace sped up. Each stroke was firm, strong, keeping him tethered as his breathing picked up, louder huffed gasps as his hips twitched forward, and his own claws were curled into the blanket bedding and fur ruffled sheets, tightening as his muscles shook, as buzzing pleasure started to rise as a wave._

_It built, higher and higher, heavier and heavier, sharp sounds from his mouth as his head fell back, as that tongue dragged to the middle of his chest, a slimy forked serpent tongue as those sinful hands twisted and gave him mock penetration, each thrust of his hips chasing the act, the feeling, and suddenly his body tensed, a flooding rush in his ears as-_

_As-_

_-that hand pulled away too suddenly, a high pitched gasp as his muscles tensed, spasmed, hips up and cock twitching from the stimulation, his own pre streaked down himself, leaking from his tip as he shuddered for breath, thrust into the air. When nothing met him, tipped him over the edge, he dropped down with a sudden pulled moan, biting his lower lip as his claws twitched spastically in the fur blankets, tempted to take himself in his own hand to get off._

_It thrummed through him, failed pleasure, denial, cock twitching as that tongue still licked upon him, almost feeling the smile of the tongues owner pressed against his neck, and great heaved breathes escaped him for a few minutes more, coming down from the edge of a high._

_Those hands went to his hips, laid themselves down and clutched too, and he was distracted as that tongue dragged down, from his throat and neck to chest. Licking the grooves of his skin, putting special attention to his sensitive flesh and nipping lightly upon his nipples, earning more frustrated hisses of sound from him, he hardly even noticed where, exactly, they were all going._

_That tongue rolled over his pudgy gut, slurped saliva against his belly button and angling to flick against his hips, and then suddenly the hands on his waist firmed up and that slimy smooth, warm split tipped tongue dropped down and wrapped tight about his erection._

_A pressured gasp left him, coughed out at the sudden pleasure, the sudden heat and warmth and pure bliss as that serpent tongue wiggled its way about his hard, engorged shaft, blushed bright and head glistening with pre fluid, and he shuddered under its touch, hardly daring to move as that tongue wiggled and massaged him, licking up and down, light, teasing flicks drawing him back to the edge._

_And then there was exhaled heat, warm moist heat blown to his sensitive skin, the only warning before full, plush lips descended down upon his cock head._

_A sharp gasp burst from him, back arching from the intense feeling, the flush of pure wet pleasure, flicking tongue still wandering about his base as a warm mouth, warm throat descended down upon him. The briefest scrape of teeth graced him, heightened the heat in him, the thrumming, shuddering pleasure, and when finally that mouth landed upon his base, deep throated and entrenched deep in heat and moisture and soft velvet silk, it was taking all he had to not thrust into the pleasure._

_In the end, he didn't have to. So edged earlier, teased, and all that mouth had to do was swipe that tongue up against the underside of his cock, slimy special attention to right under his glands, the knot of flesh and skin hot and heavy and throbbing, that was all it was before a sudden sucking, swallow motion took him._

_A gasp burst from him, tense and arched, limbs buzzing numb as he was wracked with mind numbing pleasure, orgasm rippling through him as his cock shot and he ejaculated into the welcoming mouth taking him in so deeply. Static held, burning through his limbs as his breath came back, that lovely mouth still swallowing him down, milking him for a sudden tense arch of spurted cum, a strangled gasp as that tongue tortured him a minute longer with flicks and warm, hot slimy touches. Sensitivity burned with blissful pleasure, gasping deep for air and claws tight in fur blankets, panting as finally those lips slowly pulled away, red and glistening as that thin tongue dropped away from his skin._

_A last squeeze of hands to his hips, and a shudder of breath and twitching muscles as that forked tongue flicked teasingly across his blushing tip, swiping away the last of his pre and leftover seed, having swallowed his cum with almost too much enthusiasm._

_Dark eyes rose to meet his, too dark, pitch black even as a body adjusted, as shallow panting matched his deeper breaths, limp tongue trailing from swollen lips and too many fanged teeth, fingers touching softly, gently to his sweaty skin._

_For a moment, the quiet between each other held._

_And then that tongue flicked, pulled in and then slowly hissed out in a heated exhale, lazily swiping across his open lips._

_In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn't open to kisses, in no such way._

_But then that tongue slid against his open lips, lapped his own sharpened teeth, a heavy, hot look in those pitch black eyes, and his eyes fell half lidded as that head tilted and that slimy thin tongue entered his own mouth._

_The taste, of the other man and then his own seed, bitter and sweet and musky, the spice of drool and feral, lustful hunger, and those lips did not descend but that tongue pushed in gently, curiously, lathering against his teeth and then pressed to his own tongue._

_He let it, inhaling and exhaling noisily still, slowly moving his tongue in near tandem, the dance of a serpents tongue slithering about his mouth with a tactile, bitter and pleasurable feeling. His fading climax left him buzzing soft, malleable and warm static, and as he reprocrocated the touch of tongues those hands had found their way to his head, cupping his cheeks as his eyelids fell lower and lower._

_The texture, slimy soft and smooth, a warmth in his own mouth that moved as if with a life of its own, slithering and licking at the roof of his mouth, rubbing thumbs to the sides of his face, and as his eyes closed his lips fell with them. It wasn't quite a conscious effort, just a reaction to tactile, physical interaction, and very suddenly, gently, he found his mouth filled with that thin, slimy tongue, thicker at the base as the other man's mouth fell lower and lower, warm breath puffed in his face._

_His lips pursed, the slide of the tongue against his own, otherworldly and yet delightfully pleasurable, and he found himself gently sucking on the serpents tongue, the forked tip tickling his gums and that bittersweet taste filling his mouth, spicy dark and warmed, a heated spice._

_The action was not quite anticipated, and his eyes cracked open a smidgen when a frazzled groan vibrated against him, through him from the others throat. It buzzed in his chest, outward as he hummed in satisfaction, small smile tugging his lips as he continued to suck on the tongue in his mouth, enjoying the smooth muscle and the lazy, slow way it explored his mouth. Even slower now, as he swallowed and his cheeks hollowed to suck on it even more, that slimy taste tainting his mouth and sending buzzing static pleasure to fold into his brain._

_The moan pressed against him was a little breathless now, reminding him of his own need for breath, and slowly he pulled back, nudged the others head away and letting that tongue slide from his mouth, to dangle from his partner's glistening lips. He blinked slow, breathing deep, not as shallow as the breath above him, that thin, purple hued tongue in all its forked glory hanging limp between them. The white of shard fangs shone between full lips, half open and panting quietly, those dark eyes shrouded bright and hazy with lust, and slowly he unhooked one of his hands from the fur blanket, moving slow as those dark eyes watched him._

_Curving his hand around, his palm and dull claws gently tangling in soft hair and cupping his partners head forward, Wilson tilted the other man's head down and pressed his lips to the tongue between them, the flattened thicker base and that bittersweet taste still leftover, his own seed still sticking in the drool and saliva dripping in rolls from the others panting open mouth._

_Still soft, smooth, warm, and he felt when the other man shuddered, a heavy tremble that ended as quickly as it had begun, a huffing hissed groan that sounded almost as if in distress, and he let the tip of his own tongue flick out, swipe a slow teasing touch to the monstrous serpent tongue he was gently lavishing, and with that another wheezed groan washed over him with a warm wet gasp of air._

_Slowly he raised up his other hand, dull talons curling to brush over the warm muscle before that serpent tongue coiled, smoothly twisted and wound about his hand, and another hot groan of air exhaled over him as his thumb rubbed into the dark purple shine of flesh. Smooth, soft, a deep heat that his hand let coil over and handle the long tongue, and those dark, shiny eyes finally, finally  
started  
to  
close._

***

To say Wilson was highly embarrassed into having to wash his trousers the next morning would be an understatement. He couldn't even remember a time where he ever had to do such a thing!

He felt rather...unruly, and the provocative imagery of the dream branded him in the sorts of ways his more gentlemanly side would much rather forget. A gentleman scientist did not get...did not get erotic dreams! They dreamed of science, of course, and that was all they should dream about.

Though, as he went about daily camp chores and very unsubtly avoiding the one who had done this to him, the physical effects that the Constant inflicted upon people was a science in of itself-

And he most certainly did not let himself think about it any longer! If it was science, it was not the science he had pledged himself lifelong to, and he had far more pressing matters to attend to anyhow. Science never slept, Wilson sometimes did for the better of his physical mind and body, and surviving the Constant was a battle of wits and creating more and more tools as to make life worthwhile! Like toothbrushes, for example.

It was not...whatever jagged teeth and long forked tongues were a part of.

Even if his own sharpened teeth and rather twisted jaw was a part of that mess, that did not mean it was a science he took to. Not at all.

If, in the depths of night, Wilson took his personal sleeping time into his own hands and indulged in imagery of forked tongues going more down south than was polite, then it was his own business.

And thus was not a science he, as gentleman scientist, thought all too hard about in waking hours.

Not his science, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I had way too much fun writing this.


End file.
